Blind athlete to kayak, bike his way through ALS fundraiser

Sunday

Jake Padalino charged fearlessly through Class V rapids on the Green River Narrows during a recent training run for Jerry's Baddle, an extreme biathlon featuring an intense kayak and road bike course.

Jake Padalino charged fearlessly through Class V rapids on the Green River Narrows during a recent training run for Jerry's Baddle, an extreme biathlon featuring an intense kayak and road bike course.Padalino, 41, of Asheville, N.C., is racing for the first time this year. With his easygoing disposition and smooth lines on the river, only his closest friends know that he himself is no stranger to dealing with a life-altering medical condition. Diagnosed with premature macular degeneration at age 16, Padalino is legally blind. "My vision is 20-200 after correction," Padalino said. "That means what most people can see at 200 feet, I have to be 20 feet away to see."What does that mean when paddling technical rapids and taking tight curves on a bike? "It translates to 10 percent of most people's reaction time," Padalino said. "If someone has five seconds to make a decision, I have about half a second to react."Without his contact lenses, Padalino said he can see 2 feet away, but he doesn't see details. "My acuity still isn't all that good," he said. "I have to have the river memorized or pay attention to what boat attitude and strokes the person in front of me is using to navigate through a rapid."Padalino was introduced to paddling in 1991 on a lower section of the same river he'll be racing on today."My uncle took me canoeing on the lower Green, and I had an epiphany where I realized it's what I want to do for the rest of my life," Padalino said. "I swam a lot when I was learning and had to learn to use my other senses and to paddle conservatively."Padalino has become accomplished enough now that when he tells people he can't see, they react as if he's joking. "I am super in-tune with my body and mind and the world around me when I paddle," Padalino said. "It's an ultra-focused meditative experience on challenging rivers."Those heightened senses also help him on a bike, whether he's commuting to class, riding through the woods or churning out the steep climbs of the race course."If someone is in front of me, I listen for the chain rattling; or when I'm mountain biking, I listen for their suspension to hit really hard," Padalino said. "I also crash a lot, but I don't think it's as dangerous as kayaking."He's been paddling for 20 years, but Jerry's Baddle will be his first time attempting to race."I feel mentally and physically I'm in the best shape of my life, and I'm doing it foremost to prove to myself that I can be competitive even though I'm quote-unquote ‘handicapped,' " Padalino said. "I want to bring awareness to the fact that there are people out there hiding the fact they are legally blind because they are afraid of discrimination."Padalino said he has hidden his limited vision from employers throughout the years because he was afraid of losing his job. Because of his vision, Padalino also isn't allowed to drive in North Carolina. He falls into the gray area, literally and metaphorically, of being legally blind. There aren't exceptions for individuals with partial sight."I can paddle Class V rapids but can't operate a car," Padalino said. "In other states like Tennessee, I would be able to drive between the hours of dawn and dusk on roads with speeds under 45 miles per hour."Padalino said he hopes his racing will demonstrate that being legally blind doesn't limit him and shouldn't be considered a liability. His end-goal is to raise awareness that people be evaluated on an individual basis and end discrimination against visual impairment. Padalino couldn't have picked a more perfect race than Jerry's Baddle as a pulpit to raise awareness for the need for additional resources directed toward the prevention and care of those with chronic medical conditions. The race is an annual fundraiser for amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS, held in honor of Jerry Beckwith, a former triathlete and avid paddler who died from the disease in 2006. Commonly referred to as "Lou Gehrig's disease," ALS affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord, progressively paralyzing the body. Brid Beckwith, Jerry's widow, said they were devastated and astounded at the ruthlessness of the disease, but even more discouraging was the lack of resources to tackle it. "We've known about ALS since the 1870s and it's found all over the world, but no one knows where it comes from or why it starts." Brid Beckwith said. "You kind of hear about ALS, but no one knows what it is. People need to be more aware of the incurable disease that is out there, and we need more money and more research to find the cause of it."Beckwith said her husband was diagnosed in 2005 and was dead a little more than a year later."He was active his whole life," Beckwith said. "He spent his life treating his body like a temple, and then he became a prisoner in it."She said her husband had always dreamed about an extreme kayak race down the Green River Narrows followed by a road cycling race winding through the back roads of the Saluda Grade.Shortly before her husband's death, friends decided to make his dream a reality with the goals of honoring Jerry and raising money and awareness for ALS. "He was a real behind-the-scenes kind of guy, and when I broke the news to him that everyone at home was planning this race for him, I had to tell him three times before it sank in," Brid Beckwith said. "It was exciting to see that all these people would bring his dream to reality."Brookes Saucier of Tryon conceived the idea but pulled on the entire kayaking community to band together for the event. "I met Jerry through kayaking and used to road bike a lot with him," Saucier said. "I remember times when I couldn't keep up with him, and he was 15 years older than I was."Watching Jerry lose his ability to do his two favorite things motivated Saucier to create an event that would help bring awareness of ALS."The idea wasn't to raise money to pay his bills; it was more in honor of him and then to give the money to research," Saucier said. "ALS doesn't have many funds given to it because it's not a big enough disease to gather support from larger research organizations."

Extreme courseSaucier said the race brings in about $5,000 for ALS research every year with a total of $40,000 donated since 2006. The race utilizes 50 volunteers but usually only has 80-plus participants because of the extreme nature of the course. The event does provide the option of partnering as a team for the water and bike portion or only participating in the bicycle component of the race."Even if you don't ride or kayak, you can come to support ALS research," Brid Beckwith said. "The more people who are aware of it, the closer we are to finding the cure."

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